Part Of Me
by 7-LunaAbraxos-7
Summary: Draco remembers what has happened to things in his past that he held dear, and how his father's wrath destroyed them. What will he do now that he has something that is really worth holding on to? Dramione


_Am writing this at silly o'clock because I'm awake and the plot for this has been in my head for a while and will not leave me alone. I absolutely love the song _Part of Me_, but have used them in a different context for this fic. Just to let you know, it's not really set in any particular year...Hope you like it anyway :D _

**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own Harry Potter or any of its characters, not even a little bit. I don't own the song lyrics at the end either – but I do own this fic. So at least I have something. _

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Draco looked up at the ceiling of the four poster. He was glad that the emerald curtains were closed around the bed, keeping him safe in his own little bubble. He lay naked under the blanket, thinking about the summer holidays that began in nine days.

A clock chimed in the room. Midnight. Make that eight days.

He'd never liked going home for the summer after being at Hogwarts all year. Malfoy Manor was a prison. A luxurious gilded cage that he stayed trapped in. But this year? This year he really didn't want to go home.

He didn't want Lucius to find out. All his life his father had been a merciless dictator, ruining everything good that ever came to the manor.

When he was nine his mother had planted beautiful roses that sang when you sat by them. They had been bewitched to tune into a person's emotions and react accordingly: if you were sad, they would sing a joyful tune to cheer you up. Draco had no doubt that this was the very reason why his mother had bought them. The amount of times he had found his mother sat in the garden, tears falling down her cheeks... and all because of the evil son of a bitch she had been forced to marry at nineteen. One evening he'd went to the garden to locate Narcissa, and found her sat on the ornate white bench that was surrounded by the roses, crying.

Only there weren't any roses.

In their place were burnt mutations of roses, ugly things, covered in ash and wrinkled from the caresses of a flame. They didn't sing any more. His mother never did tell him what had happened to them. It didn't take a genius to know that the dreadful scene in the garden had been caused by his father in a fit of rage.

Draco sighed. His mother wasn't the only one who'd cried over the years.

When he was six, his mother had bought him a little black cat as a present. He had loved that little ball of fluff, with its big green eyes and elegant white whiskers. One day he'd come home from a friend's house and ran upstairs to find Ebony in her usual spot at the end of his bed. But she wasn't there. He'd run round the whole manor searching for her, (no small feat for an adult, let alone a six year old) but couldn't find her. He had stuck his head round the door of his father's office as he passed it on his second trip round the manor. He'd asked if he'd seen the cat.

He would always remember the malicious smile on his father's face when he told him that the cat had fallen into the pond and drowned. But even at six years old, Draco knew. He knew that it hadn't been an accident. Ebony was a housecat; she never went outside.

Draco felt a tear on his face and raised a hand to wipe it away. He knew that his father had never approved of Ebony, had never thought her a suitable companion for a future Death Eater.

Biting his lip, Draco remembered the day that his father had taken him into his office before his first year of Hogwarts and told him that one day he was to follow in his footsteps, that he would be given the Dark Mark when he was fifteen; the minimum age to formally join the Death Eaters. He had been so puzzled... You-Know-Who was dead, was gone, wasn't he?

But that hadn't mattered; the summer after fourth year, and everything had changed. You-Know-Who had returned and Draco found himself on the receiving end of a wand that brutally burned the evil brand onto his forearm. His mother had been at the ceremony. She had remained stoic the whole way through, yet Draco had seen the pain in her eyes, the terror at what this could mean for her son. She had seen what this had done to her husband; Draco knew that she would die if the same happened to him.

Draco turned in bed, stretching a feeling arm out. His whole life had been one thing after another. His father had always taken everything he loved away from him: Ebony, his childhood friends that had been scared off... his future.

The day he had the Dark Mark scorched onto him was the day that his father had taken his future away too. What person would look at him and see him as a good person when a brand on his arm immediately told them otherwise? Why would anyone want to be kind, get close to him? The Slytherin knew that was the reason why he was such a git to everyone – shoot them down before they have the chance to hurt you first.

But that had changed just before Christmas this year.

Someone had seen his Dark Mark, someone that wasn't meant to. Yet she didn't run away or try to jinx him. She had asked him about it and had been kind and sympathetic when he finally let his guard down and told her that he hadn't wanted it; that it had been forced upon him.

Draco smiled as memories of her filled his mind. Her nose in some musty old tome, her hand frantically scribbling notes down on parchment. Her facial expression when he told her that he actually liked her normally wild hair on the one day that she had managed to tame it into a sleek, straight do. The two of them sitting under a tree by the lake, watching the giant squid surface every now and again, chatting about anything and everything. That was easy with her. Talking. He'd never really talked to people before, only shouted/insulted/ordered them.

This girl made him strong. Made him want to turn into the man that she wanted him to be; the man that he knew that he was inside.

He had asked her out, told Blaise (his only true friend), met her friends... he laughed silently at the memory of that. The looks on their faces when she showed them who her boyfriend was...

The only hurdle left was the biggest one; the hurdle that was actually less of a hurdle and more of a mountain.

His father.

Lucius was the only thing left; Draco had written to his mother and she had told him she was thrilled at him being with a nice girl who cared for him. But Lucius, he knew, was a whole other kettle of fish. His father hated muggles and thought that muggle-born witches and wizards were scum that were too low on the pecking order to even be allowed to stick to the bottom of his polished shoes. For him to discover that his only son and heir was dating a muggle-born... Draco couldn't even begin to imagine what would happen. But if his father reacted harshly to small things like singing flowers or a kitten, Merlin knows what he would do to his son's muggle-born girlfriend.

But Draco had grown up now. He was no longer a powerless child, but a highly intelligent wizard who would fight tooth and claw for the woman lying next to him.

He looked at the brunette that his reaching arm had wrapped itself around and smiled. He moved so that his arm was no longer around her, but so that his hand was on her hip. His movement caused her to waken slightly, and she fidgeted a little before turning over so that she was facing him, before returning to a deep state of sleep. He watched her face, admiring the little freckles she had across the top of her cheeks that had come through with the summer sun. Her skin was sun-kissed, unlike his, and her unruly hair was everywhere. But he wouldn't change a thing about her.

They had vocally shared their love with one another, and to hear her say it was mind blowing and at the same time frightening. He had never loved someone with such ferocity, had never felt that this beautiful, enchanting little witch would ever love him back and that she would become a part of him.

For the first time in his life, Draco felt whole. He felt wanted. He found himself knowing that whatever Lucius did when he found out about her, he would protect her, brightest witch of her age or not, he would protect her.

He would never let anyone or anything take her away.

_Throw your sticks and your stones_

_Throw your bombs and your blows_

_But you're never gonna break my soul_

_This is the part of me_

_That you're never gonna ever take away from me, no..._

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_So there you have it. A little rambling thing on Draco wanting to defend his Hermione from the evil that is his father. Right, I am off to bed seeing as it's now 1:35am and I need some sleep._

_Night! _

_Love Luna xxxx_


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